


Bingo - Rivals

by tillyenna



Series: Tilly's Hockey Bingo [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Internalised Homophobia, M/M, Rivalry, introspective, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29908035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/pseuds/tillyenna
Summary: As he watches Ilya's first start in the NHL, Igor reflects back on their relationship
Relationships: Igor Shesterkin/Ilya Sorokin
Series: Tilly's Hockey Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199192
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23
Collections: Hockey Bingo 2021





	Bingo - Rivals

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Dalek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imafriendlydalek/pseuds/puckingtrash) for the apple on the grammar :D all mistakes are thoroughly mine though ;)

#  **Rivals**

It’s not that Igor ever _wants_ to be on the bench, but the chance to be able to watch Ilya’s first NHL game almost makes it worth it. Sure, he should be watching Sasha, and he’s definitely watching his boys – but that’s Ilya, his Ilya is finally here in America with him, like they’d always planned, so there’s only one place his eyes rest.

Even when the play is up by his own net, with Sasha defending it, he can’t tear his eyes away from Ilya. Perhaps it’s for the best that he isn’t on the ice. He was distracted enough the previous game with Ilya on the bench, but today, with him in net, he’d have been even worse.

He’d never thought of Ilya as his rival, only ever as his friend. As children they had trained together, they had played together. Ilya was the only one who understood him, understood the depths to which he was willing to go to perfect their craft.

He’d never thought of Ilya as his rival, but as they grew older, he had begun to think of him as a lover. Whispering in the dark about traveling to America, about becoming good enough to make it to the NHL, about going to a country where they weren’t at risk for how they felt about each other. When they both got drafted to the same city, it seemed like those dreams would become a reality. A city in America where men held hands with each other on the streets, where two men could share an apartment with no wives in sight. They traded promises as easily as they traded kisses.

It hadn’t taken long for Igor to realise, however, that dreams are just that… dreams. Ilya hadn’t wanted to move straight away, he’d wanted the security of developing in the KHL. There had been no screaming rows, but Ilya couldn’t understand why Igor wouldn’t wait for him and Igor couldn’t understand why Ilya wouldn’t move to America for him. They had both lit it up in the KHL, and of course the media had played up the rivalry aspect, but even heartbroken as he was, he’d never thought of Ilya as his rival, but he had stopped thinking of him as his lover.

He’d moved on in Russia. It hadn’t been easy: he’d still played Ilya three times a year and they were always the two chosen to represent their country. Ilya had seemed to insist that they were still the best of friends, slinging an arm around Igor’s shoulder whenever they were in public, but he wouldn’t be caught alone with him and the few times Igor tried to catch him alone, Ilya would remind him how it looks when the two of them are alone together. The more times Ilya brushed him off, told him “Not here, this isn’t America,” the angrier Igor felt. He’d never thought of Ilya as his rival, but he had stopped thinking of him as his friend.

He came to America alone in the end, before Ilya did. New York was big and scary without him, but there were other things to think about. Settling into a new team is hard enough regardless, and doing it in a language he doesn’t speak makes it even harder. Knowing that he’s not destined to be staying in Rockford makes it hard to bond with the team there, and then moving to New York, playing games at Madison Square Garden, battling his childhood idol for his starts: Igor’s mind is full. He’d never thought of Ilya as his rival, but that first season in New York, he’d stopped thinking about him at all.

Now they’re here, Igor sitting on the bench while Ilya gets his first NHL start, and he finds it all coming flooding back to the surface. Every moment they ever spent together, every sweet whisper, every bitter retort. He’s barely thought about Ilya in months, but now he can’t tear his eyes away from him and every thought flooding through his mind is to the rhythm of Ilya’s heartbeat.

In any other season they’d have undoubtedly met up after the game - he meets up with Russian friends on quite a few other teams - but they’re not allowed to this year, and instead he finds himself back in his apartment with his phone in his hand. He opens the messages to text Ilya three different times but he can’t work out what to say. He has Ilya’s American phone number of course, and he’s thought of using it so many times before but has never worked up the courage. Today, though, before he truly knows what he’s doing, he’s hit the dial button.

The voice on the other end of the phone is familiar and soothing and Igor breathes a sigh of relief as he hears it before breathing out softly, “Ilyushka.”

He’d never thought of Ilya as his rival, his friend, his lover, his sweetheart - however he thinks of him, it’s always his Ilyuska. Because there is no Ilya without Igor too, and finally, he’s beginning to realise that.

**Author's Note:**

> This really wasn't my style was it? Still, I persevered :D


End file.
